Obsession
by AndImTheQueenOfSheba
Summary: There was only one person left that hadn't shoved her away yet, but the looks he gave her when she talked about it, he was obviously thinking the same things her friends had been thinking. He just hadn't had enough of it yet. He would. Oh he would.


**_Why didn't I save the frickin author's notes for these things? Grr. Anyway, I deleted this fic, then decided to repost it. blah blah blah just some random idea I got and wrote, so I apologize if it sucks._**

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To her, it was so much more than a rivalry. It was hatred. Pure hatred. She HATED her with every single fiber of her being. The sense it made was non-existent in the minds of everybody else, but to Miley Stewart, aka Hannah Montana, hating Mikayla seemed extremely logical.

Miley wasn't sure how Mikayla had any friends at all. She'd tried to be friendly when they'd met, but after Mikayla had opened her mouth, it wasn't possible to be nice to her. She didn't want to be so mean. She'd rather not hold a grudge like this, but Mikayla wouldn't let her stop. The insults never ended. Since Mikayla wasn't ready to play nice, neither was Hannah.

Miley wanted the competition between the two stars to end, but Hannah didn't. When she was in the Hannah state of mind, when she was the singer, the pop star, the artist, she couldn't allow herself to be rational. Mikayla was trying to steal her fans, and she couldn't have that. Miley got along with Mikayla, but Hannah didn't. Hannah refused. She'd thought that she wanted to, but hating Mikayla was too much fun for her. She couldn't end this feud. She wasn't so sure that she wanted to.

--

"Umm, sorry Miley, I'm going to visit my...great uncle...in...Antarctica...so yeah, I uh, can't hang out this week. Sorry." Lilly came up with yet another lame excuse to get herself out of hanging out with her "best friend." She'd been doing it for weeks now, and Miley had been telling herself to quit calling Lilly -she obviously didn't want to be her friend anymore- but she couldn't. They'd been too good of friends for too long to let whatever it was that was driving them apart get between them.

Miley had a nagging suspicion that the animosity between Hannah and Mikayla had something to do with it. She could tell that everybody -friends AND family- were getting fed up with it. Every time she mentioned Mikayla, they made some excuse to leave the room, or changed the subject. Miley knew she was being annoying, but she couldn't stop. As much as she wished it wasn't, Miley felt that the hostility between her alter-ego and the rival pop star was permanent, there to stay.

"Lilly, nobody lives in Antarctica, and you only have one living great-uncle, and he live in Nebraska. I know you're lying." Miley told her best friend, resulting in a "click" from the other end, and the dial tone.

Miley didn't understand how this sort of thing could turn Lilly against her. It wasn't her she hated. Lilly was like her sister, they were practically family. Mikayla however, she was more similar to an evil cousin that she wished she wasn't related to.

The brunette girl stood in her living room, the hand holding the phone pressed to her side, her eyes closed. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to think about how she had no friends. She did have friends. She had friends. Had. She didn't anymore.

Miley burst into tears and sank to her knees, feeling incredibly dejected. It was Mikayla's fault, all of this. If she hadn't been so mean, if she'd just allowed Hannah to be nice to her, this obsession with hating her wouldn't have been formed, and Miley would still have all of her friends. That was probably the kind of thoughts that had pushed her friends away though. Blaming Mikayla didn't help anything, but it sure made her feel better.

The phone flew across the room and smacked into the wall with a loud CRACK. Her dad wouldn't be happy about that, but Miley didn't care, at the moment. It was all Mikayla's fault anyway. Mikayla was the reason the phone was broken. She was.

There was only one person left that hadn't shoved her away yet, and Miley knew he was about to. The looks he gave her when she talked about it, he was obviously thinking the same things her friends had been thinking. He cared too much about her to let it get to him just yet, He just hadn't had enough of it yet. He would. Oh he would.

Sitting on the floor in the living room, by herself, Miley felt stupid. She was an idiot. How had she let this become so huge? If she'd just kept it to herself...If she'd kept it to herself, she'd still have friends. Her dad and brother wouldn't be constantly leaving the house, going to random events just to get away from her and the war raging against Mikayla that filled the room.

In the empty house, it was too quiet. There was no noise, nothing to distract her. She needed noise, she needed something.

Miley stood up, her knees shaking, and made her way to the stereo, next to the tv. She turned it on, but nothing happened. She rotated the volume dial as far clockwise as it would go, but there was nothing. She spotted the empty outlet, and the cord on the floor below it. The second the cord was plugged back in, the earsplitting shrieking that shot from the stereo nearly knocked Miley off her feet. After a moment though, it didn't sound so much like shrieking. It was a familiar song. It was her own song. It was a Hannah song. Of course it was a Hannah song. What else would it be? If it were somebody completely unimportant's song, in a depressing situation like this, would it have the same effect? No. So it had to be Hannah's song. It had to be the worst of all of them.

"You're a true friend, you're here till the end. You pull me aside, when something ain't right, talk with me now and into the night, 'til it's alright again. You're a true friend."

True friend was not a true song. It wasn't. Not at all.

Miley slammed her head against the wall, over and over again, with nobody to stop her, wishing that her head would crack like the phone had. She wanted to choke on her own saliva, she wanted a meteor to smash through the ceiling and destroy her. She was a horrible person.

The stereo vibrated, and static poured from it. The speakers could hardly take the music at this volume, but Miley didn't care. She'd be able to hear it, wherever she went.

Miley wandered outside, leaving the door open, so that she'd still be able to hear the music, torturing her. She stood beside the hot tub, with her hands gripping the edge tightly. The water looked so inviting. All she'd have to worry about in there would be drowning.

She took all three steps slowly, and stepped into the hot water, fully clothed. She felt so much heavier now, but was she not? With her mind full of the things she detested about Mikayla, she felt so huge. With the need to be better than Mikayla following her everywhere, it was like a giant weight, attached to her foot like a prisoner.

The song ended, and she lay there, not listening to the one proceeding it. That was when the broken phone rang. She could barely hear it, over the deafening roar that erupted from the stereo, but she knew it was ringing. She had a pretty good feeling that she knew who it was, too.

Miley splashed out of the hot tub and dripped her way into the living room, to the still-functioning phone on the floor, and picked it up.

"Jake?" She asked morosely, knowing it was him without looking at the screen.

"Miley..." He started. He was using the tone. The "Your obsession with hating Mikayla is annoying and I can't take any more of it" tone. She knew what was coming, and started crying.

"Miley, I...well, I've been thinking- Are you crying?"

"NO." She answered, a little too harshly to be believed.

"Don't cry, please. I just...well, I don't know if this is gonna work. You...well..."

"You have to do this over the phone? You can't break up with me in person?" Miley asked him, sounding so demonic that she scared even herself. She'd known this was coming, she shouldn't be so mad. She knew that.

"Miley, I'm in New York."

"Then come back and do it here." Miley insisted.

"Do you know how far away that is? I can't leave now anyway. Not during filming."

"Fine. Be an ass, see if I care."

"Miley...ever since I left, I've been thinking, and I realized that...I can't handle your obsession with Mikayla, okay? I'm sorry, but...it's annoying. I like Mikayla. She's one of my best friends."

"I'm not obsessed!" Miley screeched, tears appearing again.

"You are! You hate her so much that you can't quit talking about her, and it drives me insane!" Miley didn't say anything. He was right, he was so right. Hating somebody that didn't matter had become so important to her that the things, and people, that really were important had been forgotten. This was for the best.

"Fine. Whatever." Miley replied, sounding strangely calm. With that, she hung up, and set the phone lightly on the receiver, before going up to her room and entering the Hannah closet.

The second she saw herself in the mirror, she knew she'd broke down. She'd had a melt down, and she knew she couldn't do this any longer. She hadn't been herself in so long. She'd been somebody completely different. Somebody more angry, more depressed, just, not the same.

She used the side of her hand to try to rid of the mascara stains on her face, and ended up with a black hand. She ignored it, though, and searched through her closet for the least Hannah-like outfit she could find. Once she found it, she stripped out of her soaking wet clothes, and pulled the too-plain shirt, and too-dark skirt on in their place.

When she'd transformed herself into "Hannah," several minutes later, Miley looked into the mirror with satisfaction. She was definitely Hannah, but she was a different Hannah. No more of that annoying, too-happy sequin-y crap. She wanted to look like a normal person, and now she did.

--

"Ew, what are you doing here?" Mikayla greeted when she saw Hannah there. She held a finger up, silently signaling for somebody to remove Hannah from her presence, but Hannah reached for her arm and lowered it.

"Wait. I'm here to apologize. I've been nothing but mean to you, and while you didn't exactly help it, you didn't deserve it. Hating you is ruining my life. I don't want to do it anymore."

"...what?" Mikayla asked, looking dumbstruck.

"I'm not going to be mean to you anymore. It'd be a lot easier if you refrained from insulting me though..." Hannah stared at Mikayla, waiting for her to agree to be at least halfway friendly. "Mikayla?" She waved her hand in her rival's face, getting no response.

"You can take my fans all you want, okay? I don't care anymore, I don't want to fight with you."

"You don't?" Mikayla asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No."

"Oh. Okay." They stared at each other for a moment, not sure what to do, now that they'd agreed not to hate each other. Finally, although completely uncharacteristically, Mikayla engulfed Hannah in a hug. They stood there for a moment, hugging, until Mikayla piped up.

"This doesn't mean I like you, you know."

"Oh it's okay, I still don't like you either."


End file.
